


The Edge of Day and Night

by Team_Two_Cats



Category: Suikoden, Suikoden I, Suikoden II, Suikoden III
Genre: M/M, Orphans, Suikodads, This Might Get Dark, Time Travel, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-08-12 22:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20163967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Team_Two_Cats/pseuds/Team_Two_Cats
Summary: The Star Dragon Sword and Viktor had an often...stormy relationship. But what would cause Viktor to hand over the legendary blade to a successor? Edge is a young man with a mysterious past, running from a dark cloud and toward the possibility of making his family whole. But what secrets is he hiding, and what tragedies is he trying to prevent...or undo?





	1. Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This mostly comes from looking at the character design for Edge and realizing that despite obviously being an homage to Viktor, he also looks a lot like Flik and has Flik's star. So...

**Hark! The Star Dragon Sword speaks, and you would do well to listen.**

Edge kicks at the dirt, says nothing. He knows what Star will say. Knows the story he will tell. He sniffs, feels the familiar tears in the corner of his eyes. He's supposed to be beyond this, this need for comfort, this desire for reassurance. He wants to be like his fathers, never fazed, never afraid. But...

**The night was a sheet of ebony cloth dancing tattered in the gale. Rain like all the tears war brings buffeted the land. A bear of a man, wrapped in a paltry cloak doing nothing to stop the wet and wind, stands staring at a fire blazing through the darkness and storm. **

Edge pulls his blanket tighter around himself as the story slips in, chill and unstoppable. He draws a deep breath, holds it, and feels himself drawn into the echoing words as Star's magic paints the scene as vivid as memory.

***

Viktor wants to stop thinking about the argument. The shouting. Flik's body turning away from his, the stony set of his jaw. So what if gray was invading his hair, the beard that he's grown out that Flik claims to hate but won't let him cut? So what if that brawler from Armes almost got under his defenses, almost laid him out cold? He'd been in closer scrapes, and he didn't want to hear that he was getting old. Not from Flik. Not with that fear in his eyes, like for all the wars they've fought in, the one they can't hope to win is against time.

"Not like we haven't beaten the odds before," he mumbles, words lost to the whipping winds of the storm. The night is alive with anger, and somehow it comforts him, like the entire world has become the berating voice of the Star Dragon Sword, which sits warm at his side. 

But the fire, that worries him. What could be burning so hot that this deluge couldn't quench? It's coming from the road ahead, and Viktor winces as his body protests as he picks up the pace. He can almost hear Flik's voice. _You're not a young man any more, Vik. You need to treat yourself better. _But whatever this is, Viktor can't ignore it. So he moves through the roiling night, determined. He approaches the bright light of the fire, which he sees is a small caravan. He stops at the sight of a human shape crumbled near the blaze. His eyes scan the area but he can't make out what might have caused the fire. Just the hulking shapes of two dead horses and the bright relief of the caravan itself.

And then...a cry. A wail of an infant. Viktor presses forward, tracks the noise to the human shape, finds a man curled around the protesting child. In the guttering light of the fire he can see only that the man is dead, the child alive. He doesn't hesitate, reaches in and plucks the child up, looks around in hopes of finding another survivor. He sees instead the shadow of one of the fallen horses shift, and his eyes widen as he realizes that there weren't two horses, but one. One being eaten by something else. Something large.

"Well this ain't good," he whispers, either to himself or the babe in his arms. With practiced ease he draws out the Star Dragon Sword as the salamander steps into the light of the fire, revealing its deep red body. The color of fresh spilled blood.

**I suppose you've been stupid again and left your husband behind. **

"I don't need a lecture right now," Vikor says, stepping slowly away from the fire. Maybe the salamander has had its fill. If he can back away, show he doesn't want a fight... 

The salamander charges, draconic body radiating heat. Viktor runs, cutting to the side to put the burning caravan between him and the beast. With a shattering crash it simply plows through the wreckage, scattering burning debris into the night. Viktor runs a few more steps then stops, turns, plants himself. The infant in his arms has gone strangely silent, but he can't think about that now. He needs...

The beast is bearing down on him, and Viktor braces himself, muscles tight as he holds the Star Dragon Sword with one hand. Was it always this heavy?

The salamander opens its mouth and Viktor can see a spark in its throat. At least he won't have to hear Flik tell him he should have listened. Should have retired.

Lightning splits the sky, and with a silent impact the salamander freezes, the light so intense that Viktor can't look directly at it. And then noise, and the beast seems to explode from the inside out, its body blasting away and into the concealing dark. And standing there, drenched and glaring, is a man dressed in blue. With silvered hair and an expression as harsh as the weather.

"I _told you_ to be careful," Flik says as he stalks forward, though the remains of the salamander. "I _told you_..."

He trails off as the child in Viktor's arms begins crying again.

**I don't think they like you arguing.**

Viktor looks down at the babe, then up into Flik's eyes, which soften as they take in the whole scene.

"I..." Viktor struggles to find the words, then realizes he's had them all along. "I'm sorry. You're right. I...let's go home."

And they can both hear the meaning deeper than the words. Not just for the night. Not just until the next conflict. But home. For good.

"Let's," Flik says, and wraps an arm around Viktor's waist.

***

Edge runs through the hop garden, twisting around stakes, laughing. Viktor watches, unable to keep his heart from racing a bit at the thought that he might trip and fall, seriously hurt himself. At six, Edge is interested in running, in pushing boundaries, in living on the edge. Aptly named, Viktor supposes.

"I can't believe I have to tell _you_ that you have to let him find his own way," Flik says, stealing up behind him, wrapping his arms under Viktor's, pulling the larger man into a tight hug.

Viktor grunts. "I don't want him messing with my hops is all," he lies, knowing that Flik won't believe him, knowing that Flik won't call him out on it, either. After so long there is much they don't need to say with words, and Viktor rumbles his appreciation when Flik squeezes him again.

"He's been spending more time with Star, recently," Flik says.

When he was younger Viktor would have pulled away then, to hide the ache in his chest, the fear that gripped his heart, so much deeper than the worry that Edge might get hurt in the garden.

"I knew I should have gotten rid of that old rusted razor," he says. "And don't call it 'Star.' It gets pissy if you don't use Star Dragon Sword, all drawn out like that and maybe with a hundred other honorifics thrown in for good measure."

"You can't keep him from the truth," Flik says. "We haven't exactly lived quiet lives. He's going to find out about it all. It might be better if he hears it from you rather than a talking incarnation of the Night Rune."

A huff of laughter escapes Viktor, and he shakes his head. He remembers when he was young, hearing tales about great heroes. Kings and knights, generals and strategists. He'd wanted so badly to be a part of those adventures...and then life had made them real in the worst possible way. He shudders, is grateful for Flik's solid presence behind him.

"The Star Dragon Sword is a better storyteller than I'll ever be," he says. "But you're right, he's getting to be old enough to learn a bit about the world. All it's wonder...and all it's ugliness."

They stay like that for a time, watching their son play, and for Viktor it's like seeing a sunrise after a terrible night. It's like hope. So of course Flik has to ruin it.

"There's...something else."

Viktor takes a long blink and doesn't speak, just waits for Flik to tell him.

"We got a message from Sheena. Lepant died. Apparently there's some talk that some of the neighboring countries might take it as a chance to start trouble. There's a funeral. And...Sheena asked if we wouldn't like to come back...to advice the military."

Flik can't see it but he probably knows there's a wry smile on Viktor's lips. That despite being retired the past five years, there's a part of him that wants to run headlong into the conflict. To reconnect with old friends. To feel young again. But... He's tired. And he feels that after everything seeing the age in all his friends, and noting which ones are no longer there, will only make him feel older. 

"You don't have to worry about that," Viktor says. "I'm done with it. I told you, I just want a quiet life. With you. With Edge."

Flik's hands pull away and Viktor turns to find tears in the Blue Lightning's eyes. Tears...and a hint of lust. The hands return, this time to Viktor's chest, feeling their way lower and lower.

"I'll just have to make sure it's a good life, then," Flik says, and Viktor follows him back to the bedroom, not a word of complaint in him.

***

Edge leans forward, smiling broadly. "And _then_ what happened?" he asks.

**You have heard this story a thousand times, and yet you feign ignorance as to the power of Star Dragon Sword's majesty?**

Edge laughs. "Just tell it, Star."

**Very well. With the beast trapped by the power of the Marley family, and the magic of Sierra, queen of the vampires, I approached. The beast quivered in fear, terrified at my countenance, and I gave him no chance to slither away this time. With a snickersnack I liberated head from body, and his whole miserable existence crumbled to dust and ash. The End.**

"Strange," Viktor says from his seat by the fire. "But I seem to remember being present for that as well."

Edge and Flik both laugh.

**I may have had some small assistance from a grumbling bear. Happy?**

Viktor growls, and Edge and Flik laugh all the harder.

"So Neclord was defeated?" Edge asks. "Forever?"

**There is no way for him to have survived. We put an end to him for all time.**

"Damn right," Viktor adds.

Edge's eyes glisten a bit.

"But then...what are you supposed to do next?" he asks. "If Neclord is dead, then what villain am _I_ supposed to defeat?" 

Viktor squirms in his seat. More and more Edge has spoken of bearing the Star Dragon Sword and going on adventures. Despite the danger. Despite the stories Viktor has told him of lost families and wars tearing whole nations apart. Not that Viktor would have listened either. The spirit had burned in him, too, and he couldn't exactly condemn his son for being the same way. Though he didn't have to be happy about it, either.

**There will always be demons left to fight and vanquish.**

Edge considers, eyes on the ceiling. "I hope it's someone _really scary_," he says. "That way when we defeat him it will be _extra awesome_."

**Indeed, child. The Star Dragon Sword yearns only for the mightiest of enemies.**

Viktor smiles despite himself, even as he feels a familiar tightness in his chest. They've all heard the stories going around. That war is ramping up again. That something big is coming. That there have been strange sightings, of beings thought not to be native not only to the continent, but the world. As if holes were opening up in reality itself, and things were...falling through. For once, though, it wasn't Viktor's problem. He looks around at his home, at his family, and he knows he's exactly where he needs to be. That doesn't make the uneasy feeling in his gut fade fully, but he is able to ignore it. For now...


	2. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The peace of Viktor and Flik's retirement is shattered with the arrival of a new darkness. Or maybe it's an old enemy?

**Hark! The Star Dragon Sword speaks, and you would do well to listen.**

Edge feels almost light, lost in the story, like he’s floating above it all. Above the past and above himself there by the fire, lost in a world he doesn’t quite trust yet. The stories are his tether both to the past and to the ground, to his body, because with them he has nothing. Is nothing.

**The day is defined by the sun. By its light. By the tenuous hold it has on the world that people mistake as permanence. But night, eternal night, is always waiting. And when the light finally fades, the darkness creeps in.**

He wants to stop listening. To tell Star not to tell the rest. He doesn’t…he can’t…

He swallows and looks into the fire. It always starts with fire.

***

Something is burning. At first it’s all just confusion, a shatter of glass, a shout, a roar like some wounded beast. Edge bolts up in bed, can’t figure out how he slept so long. Didn’t he just go to bed? But then the smell and the smoke and he realizes the light streaming in through the window isn’t daylight but a blaze reaching up into the night sky.

He’s out of bed and lacing up his boots when the door shatters into the room, and he covers his head, winces as a wood splinter slices his shoulder. Standing in the doorway is a figure, hunched, shambling forward. A new smell, putrid and foul, fills the room. He backs away, toward the window, though outside the fire seems to be spreading. Dad’s hop garden.

The figure pauses, as if the violence of its entrance has unsettled it, and Edge can see the rotting skin, the single sagging eyeball naked in its socket. He knows what this is, has heard it described time and again by Star and his dads. A zombie. Which means he’s in trouble. Though decaying, they are incredibly strong, and even seasoned warriors struggle against an enemy that knows to pain, or hunger, or thirst, or fear. The zombie takes a step into the room as Edge curses himself for having planted weapons around the room.

Then the air itself seems to pulse and Edge freezes. All the hairs on his arms and neck and standing straight up. He closes his eyes just in time, still _sees _the blinding flash even through his eyelids. The shockwave from the thunder knocks him back against the wall, but the rolls with it as best he can, the lessons he’s learned from his father instinctual now. A second later he opens his eyes to find the doorway filled by a more familiar figure. Flik rushes to him, wraps him in a quick embrace.

“Are you hurt?” is Flik’s only question, and Edge shakes his head, unable to form proper words.

“Good. I’m not sure what this is, but we need to go. Now.”

He takes Edge’s hand and it seems so childish that it’s such a comfort. At fifteen he wants to be strong, unshakable, but all he feels is fear, as white hot as his father’s lightning. But he makes himself follow Flik as fast as he can,t he two moving through the small house, over the still and charred bodies of more zombies. He counts at least six inside. How could there be so many with the nearest graveyard miles and miles away?

The questions fade when he sees his dad and Star at the door to the yard, backlit by fire. Viktor’s eyes look wet.

“I haven’t lost my touch quite yet,” he says, but there’s a catch in voice when he says it that Edge can’t interpret.

“How many are there?” Flik asks.

**I sense a great many, though they seem to be gathering a small distance away. **

“And how didn’t you detect them before this?” Viktor demands, voice raw. “They catch you sleeping?”

**The Star Dragon Sword does not sleep. There is something…different about their energy. It is familiar but…altered.**

“We’ll worry about it later,” Flik says. “Right now we have to get out of here. They’re slow at least, so if we can get ahead of them we should be fine.”

“Then let’s—“ Viktor doesn’t have a chance to finish before a new voice bellows from the darkness beyond the fire encircling the house.

“Viktor, my old friend! And is that the Star Dragon Sword? So good to see that in this world the two of you are still together. I must admit I always suffer a bit of disappointment when I find a world where someone else is wielding the old tooth pick.”

Viktor’s mouth falls open. “I-it can’t be…”

**Who does he think he is calling a _tooth pick_.**

“Vik, what is it?” Flik asks.

Edge watches on, the fear inside him twisting like a serpent. He’s never seen that look on his dad’s face before. Fear. A kind of exhausted fear.

“Don’t you recognize it? The voice?”

**Surely you can’t be implying that it’s…**

And out of the roaring fire walks a figure, tall and lean. With gleaming red eyes and long, wicked fangs.

“But it is, _old friends_. It is I, Neclord! Come to end your miserable lives and seal away the one threat this world has to me. Luckily it shouldn’t be much to kill two old men.”

Viktor growls. Flik cackles with energy.

**Something is wrong about this. This…is not Neclord. Or not the same one that we killed. I can…I don’t think that my power will work on him.**

Another first. The first time that Star has ever sounded…uncertain.

Viktor curses under his breath and then takes a half-step into the house, thrusts Star into Edge’s hands.

“You have to take it and get away,” he says. “Find Kahn. Or Sierra. Or…someone. They’ll know what to do.”

“I don’t leave you, dad,” Edge says.

Edge is stayed by a hand running down the side of his head. Flik, smiling that same old smile, only this time tinged with something new. Something pained.

“Run on, son,” he says. “We’ll buy you time to escape.”

“I ca—”

“We love you,” Flik says, and turns toward the door and the demon waiting outside.

“And Flik! The Blue Lightning!” Neclord’s words are mocking. “Will it warm your heart to know that you are a near constant companion to the many Viktor’s I’ve met. Sadly, you’ve never once managed to stop me from killing him.”

Power begins to build in Flik’s body.

“You have to go now,” Viktor says, leaning in close. “Get the sword to safety. And don’t let him boss you around, okay?”

**I never _boss around_…**

“Just be safe. Well, as safe as you can. Live, Edge. Live.”

And with that he turns, too, and along with Flik walk out the door.

“How many times I’ve savored this moment,” Neclord hisses. “And yet the flavor never dulls!”

“Dads…” Edge whispers, feet wanting to follow them. His hands tighten on Star’s hilt.

**You must listen to them. This is not a fight you can win. But Neclord already showed his hand in admitting that I am a threat. Perhaps not as I am now, but there must be some way. You have to run, Edge. This is only the beginning.**

Edge stands motionless, telling his legs to work, to take him out with his fathers. Everything is happening too fast. He needs time, time to think about this, time to weigh his options. He can’t… not without… But instead of waiting, he feels himself move away, through the house and out the back door. The fire is weaker here.

**I will do what I can do protect and mask you. You mustn’t look back.**

From the front of the house, a flash of lightning. A cry of pain, from who Edge can’t tell. He wants… But he pushes that aside and runs. Through fire and night and toward the unknown, for the first time without the presence of his fathers to steady him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that. I actually found myself really liking writing Viktor/Flik, despite never really connecting with the pairing as I played the game (Flik seemed a bit more into dominant women, imo).


	3. Waiting on Stars Already Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Facing bitter loss, Edge meets with the resistance forming to combat Neclord, and is given his mission.

**Hark! The Star Dragon Sword speaks, and you would do well to listen.**

Edge watches the dawn bleed colors burn into the dark of the morning. He’s tired, but sleep eludes him. He wonders if it’s Star that keeps him moving, keeps him alive despite how he treats his body. It’s said that bearers of True Runes do not age. Does he count as a bearer? Does Star really count as a True Rune? Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t really belong here, because everything’s so wrong and the damage he’s doing just hasn’t caught up with him. Like Neclord.

**For every crisis, an alignment of the stars. A gathering of heroes. But what happens when heroes fail? When one world’s crisis spreads, ravenous, outward from its source? Who will rise to battle it?**

Edge turns his back on the sun, on Star and his story. He doesn’t want to hear the answer. He fears he knows already.

***

“Leknaat is dead,” Tir says, voice breaking slightly.

Around the table, disbelieving faces darken. They were waiting. For a new Tablet of Stars. For some hint that this was part of some larger tapestry. Some plan.

“How is this possible?” Sasarai asks. “Neclord was never this powerful. How has he become such a threat?”

“He doesn’t belong here,” Zerase says. “It’s likely that in his world he was more powerful to start with, that he was threat enough to necessitate his own gathering of the stars. But somehow he escaped that world. That fate. Since then, it seems that he’s been jumping from world to world, further strengthening himself. Eliminating any who might be a danger to him and then devouring everything before him.”

Edge sits silent in his seat, holding Star so that the sword’s face can regard the gathering.

**How do we destroy him?**

“We know that he’s afraid of the Night Rune,” Sierra says. Edge can feel her eyes looking beyond Star and fixing on him. There’s an intensity about her that he not quite comfortable with, something he hasn’t experienced before. “I suspect that regardless of the world, it represents a weakness, much as my magic and that of the Marley family are. Or used to be…”

They’ve all heard what happened to the Marleys.

Apple sighs. Past middle age now, she’s different from the at times high strung woman Edge met a few times growing up. Even now, the news a constant and toxic flow, she doesn’t show her stress.

“What we need is the Night Rune from _his_ reality. While he might fear some of our weapons, the thing that gives him power here must be his weakness.”

**Hmph. I am sure that anything _that _rune could accomplish, I can do just as well.**

“We don’t have time to navigate a growing war _and_ your ego,” Apple says, and Edge can feel him tremble in barely-controlled anger. “He’s already taken the new City-State as well as Toran. It won’t take him long to come back to Tinto. It’s where we stopped him in this reality, after all. By now he knows the history. He’ll be—“

“Generals!” the door bursts open and two young men in red and blue storm in. “The enemy army has been spotted. They’ve overcome Tigermouth!”

Apple sighs again. “Then we’re out of time.” She turns to Star. “Your role in all of this is still important. In order to travel from world to world, we need a tether and a compass. Namely, you. With you, we’ll be able to zero in on the Night Rune and send you there.”

**And what good is that? How do I fight Neclord here if I am on some distant world?**

Apple’s gaze flicks past Star to Edge. “You’ll need someone to wield you. Someone linked to this world. That way, when you’ve found what you’re looking, you’ll be able to return.”

**And if the world I am sent to isn’t the right one? What then?**

“You’ll be able to be sent on again. If possible, you might bring along any other Night Runes you can convince to join our cause.” She pulls out a small crystal. “Before they fell, Riou and Jowy managed to capture a piece of his essence. It should help us narrow the search, as well as give you a good idea of if you’re in the right place. When introduced to the correct Night Rune, it should resonate.”

**You’ve certainly thought it through, I’ll give you that.**

Apple gives the smallest of smiles.

“So, Edge,” she says. “Are you up for this? You understand what we’re asking of you?”

He swallows. He’s not sure of anything. But he understand enough of the plan. To find wherever this Neclord came from, and there finding a weapon to fight him. To kill him. That much, he understood. And he wasn’t going to miss it.

“You can count on me,” he says.

Apple nods.

“Then get to the caves. Our transporter should meet you there.”

**She’s not here yet?**

Jeane leans over the table and gives a throaty, purring laugh.

“She’s not exactly the most…dependable all the time. But she’ll be there.”

“Everyone else,” Apple says, “prepare to give enough resistance to buy them some time, then pull back. Zexen has agreed to shelter us for the next stage of our defense. Direct refugees toward Harmonia, though. That’s the first place we stand a chance of holding the line. Go.”

Everyone stands, and Edge finds himself following orders despite the pain in his chest, the uncertainty in his heart. He goes where they direct him, Sierra following him out of the mayoral mansion and toward the mines.

“Stay alert, pretty one.” Her smile is full of teeth and he can’t help but flinch and shudder, at which she only laughs and licks her lips.

They reach the caves without incident and a waiting soldier takes them down into the inky depths.

“It brings back memories,” Sierra says, gazing up at the fading light, though Edge gets the impression she can see just fine in the impenetrable dark.

**The memories seem less pleasant now that our task has been undone.**

Sierra huffs.

They reach the bottom and exit the elevator. Torches do little to illuminate the mine’s main tunnel. Sierra presses herself to Edge’s side, and he wonders if he should be pulling away or staying close. He tightens his grip on Star’s hilt.

“You don’t need quite all your blood, do you?” she asks, and Edge quickly steps away from her, raising Star so that he fills the space between them.

**Curtail your hungers, vampires**.

She pouts and opens her mouth as if to say something when the tunnel fills with laughter, deep and familiar.

“Come now, Star Dragon Sword, surely you know there is no stopping a vampire’s hungers. A vampire’s…desires.”

Neclord steps out of the shadows from the tunnel before them. Sierra, to Edge’s relief, seems to forget about him as she turns to her old foe, body rippling with power as she transforms into a huge bat.

“You’ll regret coming here,” she screams, and launches herself.

Edge stares. He know she should act. That he should draw Star and fight. The air around him seems to heat with the intensity of the exchange he witnesses, Sierra lashing out with magic and claws and teeth as Neclord seems almost casually to dodge and block, not looking so much as winded as Sierra’s assault begins to slow.

He wills his arms to move. His feet. But all he can do is remember his fathers’ faces as they send him away. As they go out to die. His cheeks are wet. He flinches as Sierra crashes into the tunnel wall, reverts to her human appearance, and then collapses onto the ground, ragged wounds from Neclord’s clawed hands slowly closing along her back and neck.

He has to do something. Has to fight. This is the thing that killed his fathers. That took…everything from him. But he can’t even look directly at him. Can’t manage to meet those glowing red eyes.

“It’s all right, boy,” Neclord says. “I know how sad you must be. How lonely. But you will see them again soon. In fact…” Neclord gestures deeper into the tunnel, where the dim light barely shows the outlines of two shambling figures.

“N-no…” Edge whispers. It can’t be. Not this. Anything but this. His heart races, unable to stop its frantic race, but still his body doesn’t move. He has to…has to _do something_. He has to _act_. But as the figures near all he feels is tired. His arms drop to his side, Star impacting the ground with an unceremonious thud.

**It’s just a trick, Edge. They’re…**

Not real. Star can’t seem to say it, because he must know as well as Edge that the bodies will be real enough. Even if their souls are safely beyond where Neclord can hurt them any longer, their bodies are still familiar, missed. And Edge can’t fight them. Can’t…

“Ah….CHOOOO!”

A sneeze rips the silence of the tunnel asunder, and with a flash of light two women stand, each wearing a matching white and blue robe and carrying matching wands

“Uh…did we make it this time,” one says, taller and seemingly older than the other.

“We do indeed seem to be in the right space and time,” the younger says.

They seem so casual, so clueless, that everything else in the tunnel seems to pause. Even Neclord gapes as the two look around as ready to ask for directions. Then, before any of them could recover, they strike, pointing their wands at Neclord as bluish light springs forth, ushering a cacophony of…pots and pans? And…old lamps? Broken benches? Junk. Junk flies from their wands and buries Neclord in a landslide. Then the younger one stops and peels away, rushing over to Edge.

“We have to go,” she says. “Big Viki will hold him off as long as she can, but we need to be gone now.”

She looks down, sees Star on the ground, and scoops him up.

“Ah, just what I need.” She looks back to Edge. “You ready?”

Things are moving too fast again. He glances down the tunnel, but his view of the approaching figures is blocked by the stream of junk still flowing from the glowing wand. He wants…he doesn’t even know. But he nods and reaches out, places a hand on Star.

“Then let’s go—oops!” she says, and everything burns white.


	4. What Comes After Dreams Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road he walks isn't easy, but Edge has a job to do. And a new dream to reach for.

**Hark! The Star Dragon Sword speaks, and you would do well to listen.**

The sun transforms the land into a living thing again. Edge prepares. Prepares even though even two years later he can’t get used to it. On the horizon, the morning has revealed smoke rising. He needs to hide Star. For when…

**Sometimes fate draws us to where we never thought we’d be. Across time and space. Across worlds. But the stars turn regardless, infinitely vaster than any one world or reality. They are calling us, Edge.**

“It doesn’t make it any easier,” he says. He knows Star is trying to make him feel better about all of this. About the mission he’s been given. But it all seems so much. He’s been through four worlds now, found the Night Rune in each, and sent it back to help fight against Neclord. But every time he sends back word it’s to news of more people dead, the resistance still retreating.

“It doesn’t make it any less lonely,” he whispers.

**You’ll always have me.**

Edge forces a smile. He wouldn’t have been able to keep going without Star. Without the stories. But some days it’s all he can do not to just bury him in the dirt and leave as far as he can.

“I need to get ready,” Edge says.

**Make it quick, then. It’s so undignified**.

Edge can’t argue. It is, but they can’t afford someone happening along and stealing him, so Edge makes his way to the small stream nearby and pushes Star down into the muck, scabbard first, until only the hilt is visible. He then piles stones around it so that no casual glance would spot the glint of metal.

He could just run now. Viki might be able to track him down, but maybe not. She’s in that burning village. His sister, according to their cover story. Attacked by vampires. In need to rescue. And only one weapon is strong enough.

Two figures on the horizon, and Edge gathers his things, dragging some extra dirt across his face, hoping he looks like hell. But of course he will—he lives it every new world he visits.

They find him by the stream, collapsed, groaning.

“What is it?”

One has stayed on the road while the other came to investigate.

“A boy. He looks hurt.”

“Well shit. Think it has something to do with the smoke?”

They haul him up and he gets a look at them. At their worried faces. So familiar. So real. He doesn’t need to pretend at the pain in his expression.

“What happened, son?” Viktor asks, and it’s like tearing out Edge’s heart.

“I…” he begins, battling back tears. “My sister. I need…to help my sister. V-vampires…”

Flik puts a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “I think the hot springs can wait.”

***

_Hark. Or not. I don’t know._

_My name is Edge. My world is under attack from a nightmare only I can stop. But it means…_

_Star tells me that fate isn’t something to fight, but to surrender to. My fathers are dead. I’m alive, and have a job to do. So I’ll do it. I’ll find the world that evil bastard came from and I’ll bring back a weapon to defeat him. I hope I get the chance to cut the head from his shoulders, the way Viktor would tell it. I hope…_

_But after that, fate can hang. After that, I’m convincing Viki to send me on again. To a world where they’re still alive. A world where I can say all the things to them I never got the chance to. Even if they won’t completely understand. I think they will enough. From there, I don’t know. Maybe then I’ll finally be free to follow my own star. Fight my own battles. Be the man my fathers can be proud of._

_It almost seems a dream, that life we had. That peace. A dream that everything else has left torn and faded._

_And what comes after dreams fade? I know what Flik would say. He'd get that look in his eyes like he's remembering every friend and lover he's left dead and buried. And then he'd see Viktor, strong and real and laughing. And he'd say, "New dreams."_

_Anyway, sorry for all this. Star would have something profound to say at the end. But me and goodbyes have a sad history. So…_


End file.
